Every Breath
by Schlitz-Kehle
Summary: Poor Sherlock Holmes has nothing to distract him from the temptation to smoke, until John Watson charges through the door, raging from a break-up that he blames on the detective. From there, emotions are resolved, John's sexuality is questioned, and John has found a new dancing partner.


Sherlock laid calmly upon the sharply decorated yet bloody comfortable love seat, hands crossed over his thin, well defined chest and his fierce blue eyes staring a hole into the poorly painted ceiling above. If one were to closely observe the consulting detective's intertwined fingers, they would see the tips trembling. Oh, how Sherlock craved a cigarette. The nine nicotine patches scattered between both of his arms weren't enough to satisfy, to his displeasure. He was undoubtedly bored; no cases to be solved at the moment meant that there was nothing to think about. He desired a distraction from his withdrawals and only working on a case could provide that. With a low sigh, Sherlock closed his eyes, trying to sleep. He saw no point in staying awake if there was nothing to do.

John walked with heavy steps and hunched shoulders towards the flat both he and his close friend shared. His eyes were lidded halfway and he grumbled nonsense under his breath, loose rose petals scattered throughout his short blond hair. His current girlfriend, well, ex now, dumped him for having thought that he was cheating on her with Sherlock and threw a vase of roses at his head. Luckily the vase shattered an inch above his head upon the wall; rose petals being the only one making an impact. He was disappointed, in all honesty. They were meant to go dancing tonight. This was how every relationship he has ever had went since he and Sherlock became flatmates. Everyone thought of them as partners together, thought of them sleeping in the same bed with one another, thought of them eating romantic dinners. One can get the picture as is. John released an irritable breath. He was going to give Sherlock a piece of his mind once he got home and he was going to enjoy screaming in his face. For once in his life, he just wanted to have one successful relationship. The doctor raised his gaze to the starry sky, stopping across the street from 221 B to take a deep breath before charging in. He blinking in surprise, flinching when a wet drop landed on his left cheek. And before he knew it, the sky pelted rain down upon him. And then it was pouring.

"Bugger!" He groaned exasperatedly, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets before looking both ways across the street and running frantically towards the flat. Sherlock was most likely going to laugh at his disgruntled and mangled appearance and he didn't want to worsen it.

Sherlock opened his eyes when he acknowledged the heavy rain that began to pour and looked blankly across the neat living room at the window, watching closely as the raindrops made their own individual paths down the fogged glass. He almost would have gotten up to open said window, to let some fresh, cool air into the flat, if he hadn't heard his flat mate's steps approach the door. Sherlock snapped his eyes shut again, feigning sleep. He judged by how stomp-like John's steps were that he was rather cross. And at him. He guessed that it was another break up and John wanted to yell at him. Oh well. John would most likely forget about it in the morning. If not, Sherlock would hit him in the back of the head with his violin in hopes that he'd knock him unconscious and cause some memory loss.

'Good plan.' Sherlock thought to himself, the right side of his thin, pale lips twitching upward slightly at the self-praise.

The oak door slammed open roughly and the detective slowed his breathing.

"Sherlock!" John growled, storming throughout the flat. "Where the hell are you?" Once he entered the living room, he stopped in his tracks.

Sherlock laid still, his pale face peaceful and his dark, thin eyebrows furrowed slightly. In the dark flat, the window across from where Sherlock lay allowed the moonlight to drift in, making the detective look enchanting.

John's breath had caught in his throat and his eyes widened ever so slightly. All anger had escaped his consciousness and he just allowed himself to quietly admire the man before him.

'...He's staring at me... How rude...' Sherlock scoffed in the back of his mind. 'Although I'm curious as to what for. Can he tell I'm not sleeping?'

John blinked and averted his gaze, clearing his throat. What the hell was he doing? Staring at Sherlock like that? He wasn't gay! But why did his heart feel so overwhelmed with warmth? Retrieving a blanket from a nearby chair where he himself usually sat, he threw it over the dark haired man, tucking him in.

Sherlock stirred a bit and John took a frantic step back, a startled gasp escaping him. He hoped to every god in existence that he wouldn't wake up and get the wrong idea. Studying the man before him, he checked desperately for signs of him waking up. When he found none, he released a sigh of relief and turned to head to his bedroom.

Sherlock's pale hand shot out and grasped a firm hold of the back of John's coat. John froze and looked over his shoulder with a small smile of amusement, his expression nervous.

"Heh... Hello Sherlock... What is it?"

Said man opened his eyes, looking up into John's.

"You have flower petals in your hair." Sherlock spoke blankly.

"Yeah... so?" John raised a sharp brow and clenched his fists, anger rising once more as he was reminded.

"I'm guessing your plans didn't go so well?"

John sighed, furrowing both brows.

"I suppose not, thanks to you."

Sherlock sat up slowly and yawned, looking away.

"Thanks to me?"

"Yeah."

"How so? How could it be my fault the both of you had a falling out?"

John turned and roughly gripped the front of Sherlock's shirt, surprising the hell out of him. He had expected John to be angry, yes, but hadn't thought he'd do something this bold. But then again, he had been a soldier. He shouldn't doubt him so much.

John glared into his eyes.

"Because she thought you and I were having an affair! That's what they have all been thinking! Ever since I've met you, I haven't had the slightest bit of luck with women!" He snapped.

Sherlock met his glare with a smile and the next words he spoke choked the opposing man.

"Have you ever tried _men_, my dear Watson?"

John's eyes widened and a dark crimson blush took form upon his cheeks.

"U-Uh... Erm... Where are you going with this Sherlock? I'm not gay! Even so, that isn't the point!" He stuttered, lips trembling into a nervous smile. 'Oh dear god, why did he have to go there?' He thought to himself.

Sherlock chuckled softly, closing his eyes briefly before he took a hold of John's hands, once loose of their grip, and removed them from his shirt.

"Haven't you ever thought that your relationships failed to stay intact because they were with women?"

John, at this point, had never thought he could hate the detective's casual tone of voice so much in his life.

"I'm not gay." He repeated firmly, looking away. He looked like a kicked pup.

"How could you know if you haven't tried men before?" Sherlock insisted, purring now as he watched John's cheeks darkened.

"Enough with all of the sodding questions already!" John yelled, clearly annoyed with the detective by now.

The room had suddenly filled with a stiff silence that was uncomfortable and John fidgeted awkwardly, avoiding Sherlock's gaze. When the silence had passed too long for John to take, he opened his mouth to apologize, but Sherlock beat him to the finish.

"I'm sorry, John."

"... Its fine."

"Pardon the question, but did the two of you go dancing tonight?"

"No, we haven't. She threw a vase at my bloody head and told me that we were over. That pretty much sums up my night."

"Ah." Sherlock suddenly stood up, setting the blanket John had set on him aside carefully. John watched him with curiosity.

"Sherlock, what are you...?"

The detective picked up a remote from the floor and pointed it at the stereo in which sat upon the table next to the doctor's recliner, pressing a button and enveloped the air around them with the song "Every Breath You Take" by The Police.

Sherlock then turned towards John and flashed him a spirited smile, holding a hand out to him in which he stared at in shock.

"Care to dance, my dear Watson?"

John stared between his hand and face for a moment before shakily accepting Sherlock's hand in his.

"...Sure." He muttered softly.

Sherlock grinned like a child on Christmas and pulled John close, getting into a waltz position and beginning to dance.

John felt his heart beat a million miles a minute against his ribcage and Sherlock couldn't tell him that he didn't feel him shaking in his arms. He then dared himself to look up into Sherlock's eyes hesitantly.

Sherlock just continued to smile and pulled John's short body closer, resting his own head upon that of his. John couldn't believe he was doing this... and with_ Sherlock_, of all people!

"You're feeling awfully warm, John..." Sherlock remarked, a teasing tone in his voice.

"... Shut up..." John lowered his head, gripping Sherlock's hand tighter.

Sherlock smirked playfully and allowed himself to take in the scent of his flat mate's hair. Bloody hell, did he smell good. The rose petals just added to it's fragrance. He had told John that he was married to his work, but what he didn't tell him, was that he'd make a special exception for him.

John felt butterflies in his stomach and he thought to himself.

'How do I feel about Sherlock? Sure, I swore to myself I wasn't gay, but... I can't help my emotions from oozing out of every pore of my heart...' He raised his head and looked back up at Sherlock, offering him a smile and straightening up his posture. 'I may as well enjoy this since I wanted to dance ever so badly.' Sherlock's smile grew brightly and he felt John get more into the waltz, more than willing to be a great dance partner. Together, the both of them added more of a jump to each step, their hearts perfectly in tune. They waltzed all of over the living room, stepping on loose sheets of paper but paying no mind to it. They were only focused on each other. John laughed when Sherlock almost slipped on a piece of paper, hindering his fall by pulling himself closer to the taller man. Sherlock laughed with him, a tad embarrassed about his clumsiness, but allowed both of his arms to wrap around John. It took John a few moments to realize that the song ended and just stood there in Sherlock's warm embrace.

He felt the detective's breath beside his ear and shivered.

"How do you feel, John?"

John took a few breaths before replying with a slight chuckle.

"Great. Thank you so much."

"Not a problem."

"I just didn't think..."

"...That I'd do something like this?" Sherlock finished his sentence.

"Yes."

"Hrm... Well, how do you feel about me?"

John felt as if a shock electrocuted his whole body. But unlike the pain, it was a good feeling.

"Isn't it obvious? Observe me, detective." He challenged, staring deeply into his eyes.

Sherlock gave him his signature close-mouthed grin and allowed his eyes to scan up and down John's body. John blushed intensely and gulped, regretting the challenge.

"The blush on your face tells me that you are not at ease in my presence but the darkness of it proves that you're self-conscious in it. The trembling of your body tells me that you're quite insecure in my arms, let alone by my hand's touch..." Sherlock reached a hand up to caress John's right cheek, leaning ever so closely, their lips breaths away from one another. "... And the look in your eyes... the admiration says it all..."

John's eyes trailed towards Sherlock's lips, his breath shaking.

"How do you feel about me, Sherlock...?"

"Let me show you..." Sherlock leaned forward and pressed his lips against John's passionately, closing his eyes. John's eyes widened but then closed as he eagerly kissed Sherlock in return, winding his arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

Sherlock smiled into the kiss as he came to a conclusion.

He wasn't bored anymore.

**Sorry if it wasn't as good as expected, heh ^^" First Sherlock fanfic, by the way. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
